At First Sight
by HalloweenSpell
Summary: What if Jacob never imprinted on Renesmee? He is tearing himself apart, when he meets his imprint. Nutmeg is drowning in her own grief, a vampire/werewolf hybrid. What happens when they meet? There are other imprint pairings amongst the werewolves, yet my main focus of this story is directed on Jacob and his imprint. Sorry about the summary. Jacob OC
1. Prologue

**Author's note: ****So,... hello people, this is my first ever fanfiction (Yay! x) I hope you like this story and please R&R so I know what you like and dislike. Sorry for any major delays for uploading the chapters, but I have loads of homework nowadays xxx Enjoy!**

_**Prologue**_

_I had never trusted cruises, but when my best friend signed me up for a birthday cruise, I found myself looking forward to it. It was a chance for me to escape the nightmares of the past and live in the present. If only for a while…_

_The golden beach fades from sight as we pull away from the harbour, Lacey grabs my hand; a thing which she always does when she is nervous. "Relax Lace, what can possibly happen, this is a private luxury cruise," She smiles back at me, as I spot Stephanie, Liam and Ryan taking a selfie near the railing. Steph's fringe keeps blowing into her hazel eyes, as Ryan ruffles Liam's sandy locks, laughing. They all do the duck face as the camera flashes on Steph's new apple phone. The sun glitters on the endless ocean, a deep blanket of blue velvet full of a range of tropical fish. As my bezzie hands me a tall glass of cloudy lemonade, we both giggle at one another; total bliss._

_Steph and Liam stroll over to the juice bar, Steph in her mini shorts and Liam's jumper over her bikini top, Liam in his t-shirt and dusky jeans; fingers intertwined, both laughing about nothing. Ryan stops staring at the sky, to saunter other to his pal; play fully punching Liam on the arm, he whispers something to him. Smiling Liam looks at Lacey, trouble gleaming in his eyes. 'Here we go again' I think to my inner self._

_Liam ambles over to us, as carefree as the goof he is, "Hey, Lacey, Ryan wants to tell you that he is desperately in lo-" he is cut short as Ryan grabs a hold of his t-shirt. "Shut-up dude, you promised," Ryan growls into Liam's pointed ear. He looks like he is suffering from indigestion, due to the pained, worried look on his face. "Ummm…. Lacey, can I talk to you please?" He mutters, his eyes are tinted the same shade of his khaki top, turning them into the colour of the sea. As Lacey glances at me, a worried frown creasing her flawless face, I smile encouragingly at her, she smiles back. "Sure Rye, what is it?" Is she really that Naïve? I know before she comes back, what he has said. Their fingers are woven together, their heads together; locks of brown hair, chocolate and caramel, are pressed against one another. A glimmering smile stretches from one diamond pierced ear, to the other, as she returns to continue sunbathing. Giggling a "Hey Meg, guess what?" She sits up, to lean over me; I secretly roll my eyes behind my sunglasses, preparing for the longest speech in my life._

___We see Steph, lifeless on the deck floor. Her phone has been smashed, and then Lacey gags when we see her head. The flesh on the left side of her blood stained angelic face has been cruelly ripped away, her blood oozes down her cheeks, onto the now burgundy deck. The skin around her gaping wound is ghastly pale, making it stand out like a lump of coal in the bleached flesh of her cheek. Her once laughing eyes are gazing at the sky, with fear fixated  
in them. The once sandy blonde hair is streaked with scarlet and swirls of claret blood from a gash on the back of her head; amidst her hair, we catch a glimpse  
of the damage it has caused her._

_Fearful shrieks jerk us both awake, tanned from sunbathing, wondering what is going on. We see Steph, lifeless on the deck floor. Her phone has been smashed, her blood stained angelic face gazing at the sky, with fear fixated in her empty eyes. The boat jolts, as we take in the cloudy sky, black with the oncoming storm. Even as we rush over, we both know that it is too late; searching around for crew members to help us; tears stream down my face. The boat is being tossed about on waves as big as the sky scrapers in London, as another yell breaks through the fog in my mind. I rush around the corner to see Ryan, his soft curls __now black from being _ soaked in his own blood, being tossed overboard by a menacing figure. Two blood red orbs glare, whilst pointed teeth smile at me, as I feel my blood start to freeze up. I start to back away, yet find myself falling over a heap of blood less corpses. This happened to the crew.

_I twist around to notice Lacey; her throat ripped apart, a mask of blood and gore obscuring her face, vanishing beneath the waves; death to my screams. An enflamed cloud of scarlet billows up from the foggy waters. Staining the waves of the storm, like warriors preparing for battle. _A hand clamps down on my throat, choking my cries for help. The grip is vicelike, whilst the hand feels as though it has been chiselled from ice. "Hello pretty Angel," the face leans towards me, dark skin clashing with his shining teeth. "Such a shame, but I have no use for you." He quietly murmurs an icy edge to his voice. My body is trembling so severely, that my legs give way under me, so the only support is the hand strangling me. "We can't have you telling the world what happened, can we?" He leans in, before whispering the words "Time for the angel to fall." With that, he flings me into the stormy sea, where a towering grey wave envelopes me in a chilly embrace. I could not find the energy to move, so slowly sank down, into the gloom. I saw a golden blaze above my head; for the cruiser was on fire. 

___Although I am a strong swimmer; the current pulled me down, I am helpless. I try to fight my way up, yet my arms look like they are going in slow motion, for the water seems to be as thick as soup,trapping me. _My lungs screamed for air; blood pounded in my head, like soldiers marching through my veins. Tiny bubbles swirled around me, their laughter filling my head. Hazy rays of sunlight pierced through, as my eyes were locked away by heavy lids. I sank into oblivion…

**Before I get more hate mail saying that you don't understand, your not really meant to. At least not yet, trust me, all will become clear later on. Would love to have at least 2-3 reviews, before I write my next chapter. Bye-x**


	2. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

I struggle in the water, as though I have a new found strength, yet the water is changing-becoming coarser, heavier until; I'm finally awake.

Tears are streaming down my face. Why won't my memories go away? I want to block them from my mind, for they happened three months ago, those were my most recent bad memories. They were not the worst either. This care home was the only place left that could actually be bothered to take me in. All of my family mysteriously died, making me an orphan. No-one knows what to do with me, or really cares. Whenever I am asked to describe myself in one word, only one fits my criteria.

Alone

My nightdress is soiled in my tears, yet I curl up, face pressed against the soggy pastel pink cotton. How long have I been crying?

A single beam of old sunlight enters cautiously through a break between the ghostly curtains. I turn to look at my clock, its 6:45 in the morning, which gives me 15 minutes before breakfast begins here.

I stare blankly at my surroundings; my nightmare is mostly occupying my thoughts. It has been 10 years since this house was made into a care home, yet this room looks it has been here for 60 years instead. To make matters worse, I have only been here for a few months. Flaky and splintered paint has been smeared onto the walls; I guess that it was once a glossy white, which is now covered in black blemishes and blotches. It looks anything, but inviting.

I glance across to tiny book case, recently it has been painted a watery grey, yet the wood is fractured, falling apart under the weight of my few books. My wardrobe is a medium sized cardboard box, another item reminding me that I am living the dream. This brings my gaze to my last piece of furniture: my bed. It is a single bed with a plain metal frame and a cold, lumpy mattress, full of springs. How I sleep at night is a mystery to me.

I cannot wait to leave this so called care home. Give me a bed and a roof over my head and I will be happy. Very happy. For it is not that I am ungrateful, for I am. It is just that I have always hated life here in the city. All I see every day; all day, is the cold grey of the buildings and people around me 24/7. Except Rita. You just cannot include Rita.

Rita is my fantastic care worker; she has short electric blue hair, in a crazy style of short frizzy spikes. Accompanied by a long fringe streaked with purple and black, as well as her diamond nose stud and huge silver hoop earrings. I doubt that I have ever seen her without her jeans, or her clip board. Did I mention that Rita is a perfectionist? She even changes the way she organizes her pencils every day. Her favorite phrase to use is, "Always think outside of the box, no matter how much you like to stay inside." But if you had one of those boxes which are bigger on the inside than on the outside; then surely that is the place to think. Most of those who know Rita know that she is serious as anything; despite the crazy appearance.

Footsteps approach the door, the clack-clacking of stiletto heels on the wood is horrible. How can you walk without falling over? Yet only one person I know wears stiletto heels around this place. "Guess who Meg!" as Rita smiles at me, my inner voice whispers '_Speaking of the devil'_, inside my head, making me crack a small smile; her bright appearance is clashing with my somber room. After grabbing a pen I write down on my pad the words: '**_What is is?'_**

Rita raises one eyebrow at me. "Still not talking? What has it been, a year?" If my eyes could shoot fire, there would be no Rita; just a pile of ashes.

As if she can sense my glare, she gradually raises her hands, like those in dramatic movies when they are about to surrender. That is when I notice a fragment of folded white paper, a letter, in her hand. I notice that it has been opened.

'**_What is that in your hand?'_** Rita reads the sentence, and then rereads it. A sigh escapes from her lips, I wonder what she is thinking, is this really that bad?

When she thrusts her arm out with the letter, I can't help but flinch. Thoughts of all of the negative things that could be on that piece of folded paper dart through my mind, yet like they are leaves in the wind, they are gone. "Take this, I'm sorry but you have to pack up all of your belongings." I stare at my Care worker like she has gone mad. '**_What?' _**Her shaky laughter shocks me after she reads what I have written. "Just read the letter, it will explain this." I have to leave? I am not sixteen for another two months, why do I have to go? I grab the paper from her hand, which stays poised as though frozen forever. The first words on the paper knock away my breath; _'this is the Will of the parents of Nutmeg Izarra Trillana.' _

Rita watches me, as I stare at her, eyes wide, she silently gestures for me to read on. _'It has been said that any child of the family of both Trillana and Wolfe are to inherit the family fortunes. As there is only one child and descendent remaining, all of the wealth falls to her. A house has also been named to house the descendant after they have reached their 15th birthday. The address is given below, and all belongings of the family will also fall to the descendent. Sincerely, Greer's wills._' She takesa deep breath of stank air in my room, 'They found these two days ago, I am sorry Nutmeg, but you have to do as it states on the paper. You are to leave tomorrow." Just like that, my world falls apart.

I feel like I am falling into oblivion.

**_'This is ridiculous; the Law states I have to have a legal guardian. I can't live by myself.'_** I can't live _with_ myself. Taking my cold trembling hands, Rita smiles at me, "You have guardians there; it has all been arranged for you. You cannot escape this, but must accept this change with your head held high" Her voice is filled with promise and strength, for a fleeting moment, I am reminded of a Queen talking to her subject. Isn't this what I wanted? A silent nod is all I respond with. My mind feels numb from shock, I really am losing everything. I will be alone.

Rita smiles at me, her eyes full of sympathy and understanding, "Nutmeg, trust me; everything will be fine. You may not believe this, but you are so strong, I know you will come out of this happy, and possibly even speaking?" What started as a serious conversation for me has now turned into a joke for Rita. Her laughter dies down; a heavy silence sits on both of our shoulders. I wonder if she can feel the hostility radiating off of me. "Be ready to leave by 4 am in the morning." The authority in her voice is like a blade, I wonder if my ears are bleeding from that order. Just like that, Rita sweeps out of my room. The clack-clacking of stiletto heels fades away.

Silence is its own reward.

**Yay, this chapter has finally been uploaded! Sorry for the wait, I have lots going on. More is to come, and updates will be added. Please Read & Review xxxx**


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